Instinctive
by cpax
Summary: A  "One of the Cullen's slips up" story. Featuring Emmett.


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, Meyer does.**

**Emmett POV**

Walking through the deserted lanes of the suburbs, breathing in the frosty air was a nightly ritual of mine. It was the only time spared to me each day for me so I could think alone in my privacy, no one to disrupt me. In a way, it was calming to be away from my new family –Rosalie who I had gotten intimately attached to, and Edward, my new brother who knew my each and every thought.

They usually never saw me, and if they ever caught a mere glimpse of me, the most they would see would be my black trench-coat covering my bulky frame. I was careful to avoid them; I could smell them from afar and change my random route so I would not encounter any accidents with them. The humans.

The humans always made this immensely difficult for me. It was an arduous challenge, abstaining from their sweet smelling blood. I didn't want to be like the mythological vampire from the faded pages of history. I wanted to be the heroic, virtuous man with faint traces of vampirism like Carlisle tried to make me. But it came at a price. Abstinence truly tested the endurance of a man. Muscles would be of no help.

I sniffed the air as my feet silently paced on the pavement. The only odours my acute sense of smell could pick up was the rotting smell of meat coming from the butchery nearby and the faint trace of smoke from a small fire of some sort. No humans, I noticed. Good.

I took a right turn at the next street and kept walking for approximately twenty minutes. How far was I from home? Looking around myself, I realised that I was in unfamiliar territory; I had never seen this place before. The more I walked, the closer I was getting to danger, and yet I ignored my instincts. Nothing would happen, I reassured myself. Nothing would have happened if I had turned back at that precise moment and fled towards home. But that wasn't the case. I was in deep trouble now. I was cornered by a human.

I only noticed the human when it walked in front of me, dressed in filthy rags. I still had time to turn back but there was something that was alluring about this creature. What could be so different about this one? They were all the same, flaunting their fresh, vermilion coloured blood under the thin, penetrable layer of skin, thinking they were invincible. It stood rooted to the spot, watching me warily as I inaudibly approached it.

I belatedly realised that it was a woman and it clutched a bundle near its bosom. It was a baby, one that was barely breathing, the shallow gasps coming at intermittent intervals. The woman was masked by several smells: smoke, sweat, and filth. Obviously, she thrived on poverty and her child was going to die because of it.

The smell of her blood was now clearer to me; the closer I got to her. It called to me like a siren, drawing me forward, summoning to me, beckoning with a bony forefinger. I was no longer in charge, but the Devil was, acting for me, insisting my sustenance be fulfilled with this woman's blood. I did not resist. I let my feet take me to her.

Her blood was a unique type, something I had never smelt before in humans. I could hear her heart pumping the blood faster around her body, and I could smell the adrenalin being emitted with the perspiration. The woman was more than afraid; she was terrified to her very core. Her instincts told her I was a dangerous being. She committed the only sane option left. The woman ran.

It was a futile attempt, running from a person with the ability to run faster than a lightning strike. I caught up to her instantly, seizing her by the arm and whirling her around to stare in her eyes. She clamped her eyes shut, not wanting to initiate eye contact. I only gripped her arm tighter, causing her to squeal in pain.

"Open your eyes," I snarled. I surprised myself with the vicious demeanour I had adopted now. But I knew it wasn't mine. It belonged to the devil raging inside of me. My nails dug into her flesh, drawing out beads of blood. I couldn't deny my thirst any longer.

I clamped my mouth over her jugular area, my razor sharp teeth piercing the supple skin to allow the blood to directly flow in my mouth. She shrieked in agony, her vocal cords prominent in her larynx. I paid no heed; determination forced me to keep feeding. Her blood was incredibly bittersweet, giving me pleasure at the taste but causing me anguish at the fact that there would be no more. I savoured the taste, lapping at every drop. My dead veins screamed in ecstasy at the nourishment, burning with a delightful fire. The woman's struggles had become minimal now as she grew weaker. The blood… oh, the blood, only a monstrous survival like this would make the blood seem so sweet. I let go of her arm after I sucked out the remaining mouthful of blood, she swaying to the ground in a dead faint. I wiped away the stream of blood that had escaped my mouth and ran down my chin in a single rivulet.

I held up my hand to the light that was emanating from the moon overhead, looking at the bloodstain on my cold, stony hands. It was such a rich, red colour and it was one of the means of survival for this human, and I had stolen it. I looked down at the woman, who was now sporting a tremendously pale hue, her arms still grasping the tiny child. The baby was wailing shrilly, lamenting for the mother's death which I had subsequently brought on.

I could not help but feel deeply ashamed at my reproachful behaviour. I acted like such a coward, giving into my shallow temptations for only a single moment of contentment, which was now replaced with contriteness due to realisation. I picked up the baby from the mothers embrace, it shrieking even louder at my cold touch. Then I ran like the wind down the streets, swerving to avoid obstacles. The wind whistled around my head and I only stopped when I reached the only destination I could think of coming to except for home.

Standing before me was a gigantic church, created with a grey stone that truly depicted the colour in my life. Grey. I jumped over the fence and entered the church, which was surprisingly left open, as if the priest had foreseen my arrival. I walked down the small pathway, my large frame carefully sidestepping the pews. I placed the child on the small stage, hoping someone would save it before it was too late. I touched its cheek and wiped away a lone tear. "I'm sorry," I whispered. Then I fled, as fast as my feet could take me, wherever, just away from here.

I returned home three days later to face the disapproval from my family. Instead, Esme just hugged me wordlessly and for that I was immensely grateful.

"Why?" Rosalie questioned. Her voice held so much anguish it made me cringe in shame. I could not articulate my feelings so I simply looked away.

Edward looked at me with disdain etched onto his face. "Her name was Elizabeth," he told me, looking away scornfully. I knew why Edward held so much scorn towards me. Elizabeth was the name of his deceased mother, one that protected her son with her own life. I hung my head in self shame. I was not as strong as my looks proved to be. I was just another monster to be pitied.

"Why?" Someone asked again. This time it wasn't Rosalie that asked me, but Carlisle with the concern deep in his voice like a true father.

I looked up from my feet to my family, meeting their eyes. I was sure they could see the shame lingering there after my recent ignominious act.

"She was so irresistible," I susurrated. I had never sounded so pathetic in my whole life.


End file.
